


take me with you on your path; you’ll be my reason, I’ll be your photograph

by Silverinia



Category: The Good Fight (TV), The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Cheesy, Early in Canon, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions Gone Wrong, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 13:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverinia/pseuds/Silverinia
Summary: 45. “I’m your lock screen?!” - “You weren’t supposed to see that.” (OTP Drabble Challenge! by @prompt-bank), requested by anon.





	take me with you on your path; you’ll be my reason, I’ll be your photograph

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm writing again. I have to say that I'm not perfectly pleased with this. It's not perfect, it is in fact far from perfect. But if words are a form of expression, an organ that allows our thoughts and feelings, our insides a way out into the world, then maybe writing really is just a reflection of our own.
> 
> No one is perfect, and that's okay. I always try to give myself leeway for making mistakes and to keep on learning, I allow myself to be flawed and fabulously imperfect every single day. So how can I expect my writing to be perfect if it's just another part of my flawed and fragmented self?
> 
> Maybe this doesn't make any sense, but it's a relieving way to look at it, a healthy way in which to judge my effort and performance.
> 
> Writing shouldn't be perfect. It should be able to touch us, to make people feel. It has to be special. And perfection is too far away from us to reach down and touch us who are down here together, buried beneath all our flaws and weaknesses. Perfection is not special, because it's just an act, an absurd concept to put upon ourselves and everything we do while we're trapped in our own fanatic perfectionism.
> 
> And if writing were perfect, it might as well disappear. It's no good without rawness and flaws, because it's no good without the reality of those, no good without the mistakes we have to make to be human. Because writing is human, purely and undeniably so.
> 
> And if my writing manages to be that, a part of me transported into the outside when I click the 'post'-icon at the bottom of this page, I'm okay knowing that it isn't perfect. It's okay. That's the way it's supposed to be.

> _ **there was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to feel you deep in my heart. there was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more than to never feel the breaking apart. All My Pictures Of You  
\- Pictures Of You, The Cure** _

“Kurt, your phone!”

“Oh, can you get that for me? Just tell ‘em I’ll call them back.”

“Alright. Hello? Oh. Hi.” She grimaced at the feeling of blood rushing out of her cheeks that left her features pale and dumbfound in unpleasant surprise. She had not thought this through. And, apparently, neither had he.

“I-I’m Diane, his, uhm—… Well, I should hope so...” She chuckled a little awkwardly, suppressing the sudden urge to slap herself for sounding so stupid. “Yes, of course. I’ll tell him to call you back. Sure. Okay. Bye.” Before she hung up, she caught herself trying to make her voice sound overly friendly, which deemed her as the worst approach to this she could have chosen, even if she’d had more time to contemplate the wide range of possibilities with which she could have made a fool out of herself in this first conversation.

His lock screen lit up for a split second after the call disconnected, before the display went dark again and she blinked a couple of times, thinking that the severe lack of sleep her body had been experiencing over the past couple of days had finally taken over, gotten the better of her and with that must have become enough of a strain to cause her the most absurd hallucinations.

Snorting silently to herself, she opened the lock screen one more time and her lips parted when she saw it again, a little longer this time until it automatically disappeared again in darkness to show her reflection on the black display, and long enough for her to realize that her insomnia had not played her this time.

“Who was it?”, his voice echoed over from the bathroom, pulling her out of her bafflement again. Shaking her head, she stepped through the bedroom into his direction to lean against the doorway, cool fingers tapping his cell against the palm of her free hand. He was shaving, she could see his concentration in soft wrinkles that lined the reflection of his face in the mirror, a small smile on her blushing face as she watched him.

“Uhm, that was your sister.”, she said. One of her brows arched up playfully when she saw his face fall, amusement warming her heart at seeing the way he was trying not to meet her gaze in the mirror.

“Oh.”

_Oh_. Quite the small expression for the fact that he certainly had not intended to introduce the two of them to each other by accident and/or via phone call.

“Yes. I told her you’d call her back…?”

Nodding, he met her eyes in a quick glance of gratitude. “Thank you.”

Swiftly, her tongue flicked over her lips as she took another step forward. She placed his cell on the counter beside the sink before she slowly, almost cautiously as not to startle him with the razor blades pressed against his skin, wrapped her arms around him from behind. His bare skin was still a little damp from the warm shower water that had been raining down on his body only minutes ago, the thin, wet layer on it drawing the sleek material of her long-sleeved silk blouse in, as if his skin was inviting her into an embrace to allow her to share his warmth with her. Her eyes fell closed in the feeling of comfort he wrapped her into, even if she was the one to hold him, in the feeling of falling for someone in both, the most maddening and deeply satisfying way anyone could have collapsed in.

If this was what it felt like to lose one’s mind, she thought, then she would gladly give up on all reason to go on without it. If this was a possible feeling, she would trade it for the ability to think straight any time, because thinking would have lost its meaning, its right to exist, anyway, in its inability to compete with this.

And so, she could not see the way his eyes wandered aside from his own reflection and over to hers, could not see the smile that softened his features like nothing, neither a journey back in time, nor a potion for eternal youth could have done. He wished he could just freeze the picture and treasure it in his mind until the day arrived where reality would die down like a burned-out flame, wished for a photograph of the feeling of her heart beating against his shoulder blade, so he could take it out and look at it on dark days that had yet to arrive, in silent rain, in burning cold, in loneliness he had yet to feel.

She rose on her tiptoes, tilting her head aside on his shoulder to curl her lips against his neck, leaving red lipstick stains on him that neither of them cared to think about. With wood and gunpowder meeting the fresh trace of shower gel on his skin, she could not have cared less about the possibility of ruining her make-up, too intoxicated by his scent. With her warm breathing on his skin and the fire she let loose to his insides, he could not have cared less about the trails she left on him, instead worshipped each of them, like rivers of kisses combining to create a map of affection.

He had lowered the razor into the sink when she opened her eyes again to find the green of his gaze on her through the reflection in front of them.

“So…”, she began softly and a smirk formed on her lips, an almost smug look hiding the way in which the silent flattery, the wordless and overwhelming affinity, were warming her heart. “I’m your lock screen?”

His eyes widened and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she tried to keep herself from laughing. Dipping his head, he broke their eye-lock in a sheepish manner that seemed too unlike him and yet still like a reaction only he would surprise her with.

“I-uhm… You weren’t supposed to see that.”, he muttered under his breath.

Diane turned her head aside again, muffling a small chuckle in the curve between his neck and shoulder. “Don’t be embarrassed about it.” Looking up, she cast him a smile.

“I’m not.”

Her brows twitched up and he huffed out an audible exhale, something between amusement and nervousness lingering in the warm air.

“Maybe a little.”

She shook her head before she buried her face in his warmth again, her fingers gently dancing over his chest. “Well, don’t be.”, she whispered against his skin. “I kinda like it.”

…

He took her hand in his when they stepped through the glass doors of the airport, his luggage dangling off the other. From the corner of his eye, he saw her looking up at him for a small moment, in surprise or in disbelief, he did not know, before she moved her cool fingers to entwine them with his as she quickly looked away again, as if the short, questioning gaze on her side had not happened, as though there was no uncertainty left between them.

They walked in silence until they arrived a few feet away from the first security gate he would pass today, and she let go of his hand to turn to face him.

“So…”, she began and he smirked. Seeing her at a loss of words was more than just a rare occasion, her sweetness bordering on insecurity, he knew he could have given her the world and it still would not have been enough to do her justice.

“So?”, he asked playfully, making her chuckle.

“Call me?” Her tone was cautious, her words carefully chosen. She could have added “tonight” but it could have come off as clingy, could have added “when you get back” but it could have seemed like a brush-off, so she chose to stay vague rather than having to risk being openly disappointed by his possible answer.

He nodded. “Is tonight okay?”

Exhaling a breath she had not realized she’d been holding in, her lips stretched in a smile. “Tonight is perfect.”

Her hand rose to cup his cheek as she leaned in to embrace his lips with hers, not anticipating the way he would deepen it as soon as he got the chance to do so, not expecting the way her knees would weaken at the touch of their tongues as they said goodbye in a language of their own, his free arm that had slung around her upper back the only strength left to keep her from falling.

And he did. He always would.

His arm tightened around her to pull her closer as he intensified their kiss. It was everything he could do to keep himself from asking her to come with him, knowing that it would be foolish, selfish even to ask her to leave her own responsibilities behind and sacrifice her own life just to be with him while he took care of his.

A soft moan escaped her into him and he knew that she could have made him lose his mind with a mere snap of her fingers.

“I love you.”, he barely mouthed against her lips and could have slapped himself as she pulled away, just enough to be able to look at him.

“What?”, she asked. The beautiful light blue of her eyes was like a window to her soul, allowing him a view of her sincerity, a better place, a better world.

Forcing a smile, he shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, tell me.”, she said, her voice as soft as her smile, as gentle as the movement of her thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek.

He placed another kiss on her lips before he dared to meet her eyes again. Her eyes, icy blue, looking as if heavens and oceans only existed to serve as comparisons that could not cope with her, as if next to those eyes, every shade of blue was suddenly meant to seem dull and finite, compared to the countless infinities he saw in her gaze.

He shook his head again. “It’s not important.”

“Okay.”, she gave in, which did not seem like something she would usually do. Her fingertips danced along his rough skin, before her hand came to rest on his shoulder, the thick fabric of his brown suede jacket and the cotton of his flannel shirt two layers too many between their skin.

“I’ll call you tonight.”, he promised again and she smiled.

“You better.” Her gaze intently wandered across his features as if they were trying to memorize them as well as they could, like this were their last chance to do so. Suddenly, she froze, straightening a little in his embrace as she shook her head. “I think I should… And you should probably…”

“Yeah. We should.”

“Right.” She nodded, the movement looking more determined than she seemed to be. “Well… Have a good flight.”

“Thank you.”, he said and kissed her again before they parted. He held up his hand rather awkwardly and she cast him a halfway encouraging smirk, returning the gesture before she turned away.

A deep sigh escaped him before he began to move to the security gate, when—

“Kurt, wait!”

He stopped and looked back to see her coming to stand in front of him again, her front teeth scraping over her bottom lip.

“I…”, she began but paused and swallowed hard as she shot him an apologetic gaze. “Kurt, I… I’ll miss you.”

One corner of his lips twitched aside and he nodded. “I’ll miss you, too.”

…

He passed the security checkpoints without complication and took a seat while he waited for his flight to board. Shaking his head, he took out his cell and clicked redial.

“Hey!”, she answered enthusiastically after a couple of waiting signals.

“Hey. You called?”

“I did.”, she stated, somehow after all these years still managing to sound like a little girl that was trying to tease him by keeping a secret from him.

He waited a few seconds, rolling his eyes when she remained silent. “Right. What did you—”

“So…”, she cut him off and he could practically hear her smirk on through the phone while she stretched out the syllable. “Diane sounds lovely.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “She is.”

“Oh, come on, Kurt! All the hours I had to listen to you gushing about her, and suddenly that’s all I get?”

“I think we should talk about privacy and boundaries.”

“God, you’re so dramatic!”, she chuckled, making him frown because he probably would have called himself the least dramatic person he could think of. “Just tell me, when am I finally going to meet her?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just don’t think we’re at that stage yet.”

“So, it’s not as serious as you want it to be?”

“I…” He paused. His left knee was bouncing up and down in his seating position, seemingly bothering a young brunette who was sitting two seats apart from him and shooting him a look that seemed like she wished for his kneecap to spontaneously implode. He stopped the movement. “I mean, it could be. If that’s what she wants.”

“But… what do _you_ want?”

“I…” His brows shot up as he took a deep breath. “I love her. That’s all I know.”

“Wow. That’s a new one. I say you should get a grip and tell her. Oh, and we should talk about Christmas soon. I need to know how it went to decide if you’ll get a plus one this year. Bye!”

Rolling his eyes while suppressing a chuckle, he hung up and watched as the lock screen of his cell lit up for a short moment. And when it disappeared, he let it light up again to see her smiling into the camera as he smiled at the picture of her.

…

Diane’s gaze stayed on his frame until he disappeared behind the security gate. She waited for another moment after he had gone out of her sight, before she reached into her purse to fish her red leather-bound planner out of it.

Slowly, she opened it from the back and found the small photograph she had been looking for, attached to the last page with a metal paper clip. A smile wandered over her lips, the tip of her index finger brushing over the sleek paper.

“I love you.”, she breathed out, as if she were muttering the words into his ear instead of the noisy air at the airport, as if her fingertip was brushing over his skin instead of a glossy paper print.

And how lovely it was, the thought of taking him with her wherever she went. And how lovely it was to know that he felt the same.


End file.
